Rose's Fallen Star
by quidditchcapricious
Summary: No one knows where he came from, who is family is, or even his real name. All they know is that he crashed landed into a London department store on New Year's Eve. While trying to create a new life for himself with his fiance Rose Tyler, John Smith starts having strange dreams. Is he remember who he is, or going insane?
1. Chapter 1: January 1, 2005

Rose Tyler fumbled with the keys, her fingers already chilled by the cold winter air. Finally, her fingers found the key, and she locked the front doors of Henrik's Department Store for the night. Rose shoved her hands into the pocket of her black winter coat, cursing herself for forgetting her gloves, before making her way down the empty London street.

In the distance, Rose could hear music and people cheering. She let out a heavy sigh, which turned to vapor in front of her eyes. Everyone in London was celebrating the New Year; laughing, drinking, and having a great time with their friends and family. Then there was Rose Tyler, shop clerk, about to board a bus to whisk her away to her and her mum's flat just to face another day at the shop tomorrow. To Rose Tyler, it was just another monotonous night.

Rose walked with her hands shoved into the pockets of her winter coat, idly stepping out of the way of giggling couples stumbling out of the pubs. As she walked, she absently wondered what Mickey did tonight, where he was. Maybe her mum would want to go out to dinner tomorrow to celebrate the New Year's. More idle thoughts came and went before Rose realized she was sitting on the bench at the bus stop. She sat, blinking stupidly in the harsh florescent light, feeling as though she just woke up from an unplanned nap.

She shook her head, trying to clear the fog. Rose looked up over the tall buildings, toward the night sky. In the country it would've been a beautiful night, with billions of bright stars littering the deep navy sky. But in the center of London, all Rose saw was one flickering star standing alone in blackness.

Rose smiled sadly up at the sky. She felt like that star. She wanted to shine brightly among the stars, to do something and _be_ someone. But her hopes dimmed by her choices and mistakes. Now she was struggling to stay lit among darkness. She was trying so hard to find some meaning to her meaningless job, to her directionless life.

An urge suddenly came over Rose. It was a bit childish, she knew, but she felt that she _needed_ to do it. Closing her eyes and clasping her hands together, Rose turned her face toward the star. She felt as if her heart was ready to burst. "Please," she whispered, "_Please_, take me away from my dull life. Please…"

Rose sat there for a moment, her frozen hands gripping each other tight in front of her face, before they dropped back into her lap and she opened her eyes again. She felt her ears grow hot with embarrassment, feeling silly for just wishing on a star.

She leaned back against the bench, looking back up at the star. It seemed to have grown brighter, but perhaps she was just thinking more silly things. Rose smirked at herself.

Slowly, her smirk turned into a gape as she watched the star. It was indeed growing brighter, and… _bigger_. Yes, it was getting bigger! Rose stood up from the bench as she heard distant screams from somewhere else in the city. The star was falling rapidly, its light blinding shades of blue. Rose shielded her eyes from the light as the star flew over her head. When the light had faded, Rose heard a loud crash from some distant street behind her.

Rose raced through the streets, weaving in and out of the crowds that started gathering on the street after the crash. She found herself retracing her steps, the crowd leading back to...

Where Henrik's Department Store used to stand. Rose wedged through the tightly packed crowd until she broke out into the inner circle, her breath coming out in puffs of white smoke and sweat trickling down the back of her neck. Smoking rubble was all that was left of the department store now. Limbs of mannequins reached up out of the debris, like pale zombies reaching out of their graves. Her heart sank as she took in the sight. She, and many others, were now unemployed. Now what was she to do?

"I didn't mean _this_,"she muttered under her breath. She kicked a nearby stone forlornly, toward the heap that lay before her. She watched as the stone bounced off the heap, causing the heap to let out a muffled groan.

Rose's eyes widened. "Someone's in there!" A voice shouted from the crowd behind her. The crowd began to stir, some shouting, others screaming for someone to call the medics. Rose ran to the pile of rubble, climbing the unsteady mass to where her stone hit. She began shifting and shoving massive stones out of the way. The debris, still hot from impact, burned her hands as she dug through it, but she just cringed and kept digging. "Don't worry! I'm coming!" She yelled as she pushed a wooden beam to the side. Rose heard no response, and began to dig faster. Somewhere in the city, she heard sirens. _Please, get here soon._

Rose shoved large chunks of wall away, then another beam, and finally she glimpsed a bit of flesh; a forehead! "I see you! I see you!" she shouted, yanking another stone out of the way to reveal a pair of eyes, and a nose. "I've got you!"

The eyes snapped open, making Rose freeze. The eyes were glowing yellow, and seemed to be looking through her, into something vast… She sat there, mesmerized by those shining yellow eyes.

Then, there was a brilliant flash of yellow light, and people screaming…

No more than a minute had to have gone by when Rose opened her eyes. She sat up, her head pounding. She found herself at the edge of the crowd, chunks of rubble thrown from the mass, scattered about her.

Rose's eyes refocused, and fixed themselves on the remains of the department store. The rubble was only half of what it was. Now, a large crater lay in the midst of the destruction. Rose stood, swaying as she straightened herself. She started toward the crater, but someone grabbed her arm. They said something to her, but Rose yanked her arm away. Slowly, she walked toward the gaping hole. She climbed what was left of the mound, and peered down.

Lying there, as if they were a baby bird in his mother's nest, was a man. His clothes were in tatters, clinging to his body weakly. However, it appeared that his clothes were the only part of him that was harmed. His skin was smooth, free of any scrapes or cuts. His hair was a perfect mess of brown hair. He seemed to only be sleeping among the piles of stone and wood, dreaming peaceful dreams.

Rose stared down at him, amazed and bewildered by what she saw. She only looked away from him when she heard the medics and firemen shouting at the crowd to clear a path.


	2. Chapter 2: Three Years Later

**Chapter 2: Three Years Later**

_"Doctor!" _

_ "Rose?"_

_ "Doctor!"_

_ Her voice was faint, echoing from some distant place._

_ "Doctor!" Her call came again, fainter now. She sounded terrified. Where was she? There was nothing but darkness. He felt like he was floating… Floating farther away from her. He reached out, waving his hands to try and feel his way around. Finally his hands found a table. No, a console of some sort. He felt knobs and buttons and levers beneath his searching fingers._

_ "Doctor!" Her voice was as soft as the wind, and was soon drowned out by a strange whirring sound. Whirr… whirr… whirr…_

_ The sound gave him a feeling of comfort and power. He knew that sound meant that he was going to find Rose, to help her. "I'm coming Rose!"_

"John?"

John's eyes snapped open at the sound of Rose's voice, his body shooting upright in the tangle of sheets. His eyes darted around the, frantically searching.

Beside him, Rose was propped up on her elbows, looking up at him with tired, confused eyes. "What's wrong?" she asked, her tongue heavy with sleep. John blinked. The morning sunlight filled their bedroom, giving everything a bright, fresh glow. He looked around, his eyes moving over the vanity, it's surface cluttered with various tubes and palettes of make-up, to the mixture of dirty and clean clothes scattered on the gleaming wooden floor. He felt the large, queen-sized bed beneath him, feeling his weight against it as gravity held him to it. He wasn't floating in some black abyss. He was in his flat, with Rose safe beside him. John released a breath he didn't realize he was holding and fell back against his pillow.

Rose turned on her side to face him and placed a hand on his chest. "John, you alright?" He opened his eyes and looked at her, her brown eyes filled with concern. John wanted to tell her about the dream, to hold her and never let her go after the fear he felt for her. But he nodded and said, "Yeah, just a bad dream."

"You were whimpering and calling my name."

_Tell her._

"Really? Don't remember why."

Her eyes face reflected to him the skepticism she felt toward his words. "You don't remember anything?"

"Not even a little!" he said, giving her a large, worry-free smile. He turned to look at the clock on his nightstand, "But since we're awake, how about a bit of breakfast?" He threw the sheets off of him, and leapt out of bed.

Rose stared after him as he left the room. She listened to the sound of his bare feet padding against the linoleum floors, the sound growing fainter as he entered the kitchen. With a sigh, Rose fell back against the pillow, staring up at the ceiling.

John had been having strange dreams for a few months now. Every morning, he woke up either shouting or whimpering beside her. Most of the time, it was just names, like Leela, or Sarah Jane, or Ian. Other times, he would shout strange words like dalek or sontaran. Rarely, he'd shout things that didn't even sound like they belonged to any living language.

But when he woke up, he couldn't remember his dreams. At least, that's what he told Rose. No, it's true! … Right? He wouldn't lie to her.

_Unless he's dreaming about his first life,_ a little voice chimed inside of her head. Rose groaned and pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. The thought haunted her lately.

Of course, it would be a good thing if he remembered his old life, right? He'd have a name, a family, friends.

_But what if he has a wife and kids, too?_

"Stop it," she hissed, yanking her pillow from under her head and smashing it against her face. But she knew she couldn't avoid the question. What if he _did_ have a wife and kids? He'd have to go back to them—

Rose's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the electric kettle beeping. "Allons-y, Rose!" John called excitedly. By the time her feet touched the floor, Rose had nearly forgotten about her early morning thoughts.

She walked out into the kitchen, greeted by the smell of bacon and baked beans. Their kitchen was quaint, and much tidier than the bedroom. The walls were painted a soft yellow, giving the kitchen a subtle warmth. Dishes from last night's dinner sat bathing in sudsy water in the sink. Normally, the kitchen table was piled with magazines and books, but it was now cleared and set for breakfast. John stood at the kitchen counter, pouring water over the teabags in their cups. When he turned around, he smiled at her. "Sit down, it's almost done."

She grinned back and sat down at the table, letting John serve her tea, toast, fried egg, beans, and bacon. The smell of the food made her stomach groan, and she began to shovel beans onto her toast. Rose took two large bites of her toast, John stirring sugar into his tea.

"I was thinking we could visit the Queen Vic tonight for a pint after I got home," she said through a mouthful of toast and beans.

"The Queen Vic?"

"It's a pub down on Long Street."

"Oh yes!" He said before taking a quick sip of his tea and placing it back in the saucer.

"It's a wonder they named the pub the Queen Vic. She wasn't much for pubs; didn't much like to drink, that one. But boy, if you gave her a bit of whisky…"

Rose giggled as he went on a tangent about Queen Victoria's saucy encounters. "Where on Earth did you read that?"

John seemed to snap out of some distant reverie. "What?"

"All this about Queen Victoria, where did you learn it?"

John shrugged. "No idea!"

Rose raised a brow, but didn't question him.

They spent the morning talking about their honeymoon, where they might go. They talked about Egypt, or America. Maybe even Cyprus! No matter how much they talked about it, they couldn't decide where to go. They wanted to go everywhere, see everything.

"Why don't we?" John said, grinning at Rose.

She laughed. "We don't have the money!"

John leaned back in his chair, his grin turning to a sad smile. "Right, money…" Rose shifted in her chair, feeling awful for crushing his excitement. She glanced at the clock on the stove, her heart leaping into her throat. "It's half past six?" She jumped from her chair, thrusting her dishes into the sink, the fork _plunk_ing into the cold water. "I'm going to be late," she said as she rushed into the bedroom.

When she was dressed, John was sitting in the living room, his lanky figure sprawled on the couch, a book propped up on his chest with one hand.

"Don't you have work?"

"Nah, got my appointment today with Doctor Jones."

"Oh, right!" Rose walked over to the couch, lightly tugging John's head back by a tuft of hair, planting a kiss on his lips. He reached up, running his fingers through her shoulder-length blonde hair.

She smiled sweetly down at him. "The Queen Vic's tonight, then?"

He nodded. "See you then, Rose Tyler."

Rose planted another quick kiss on his lips before rushing out the door. John listened to her footsteps echoing down the stairwell outside, fading as she descended.

He sat up and tossed his book onto the coffee table beside the couch. He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. It was only seven in the morning, but his day had already been strange, what with his sudden intimate knowledge of Queen Victoria, and that dream…

He leaned forward, his head in his hands. Were they memories seeping through his subconscious? "No, no," he groaned out loud. Rose had never met him before the night he was found, and yet he heard her voice in his dream.

_Doctor…_

Why was she called for a doctor? He lifted his face and stared absently around the room, her voice echoing through his mind. He sighed, standing from the couch. He needed to talk to Doctor Jones.


	3. Chapter 3: The Office of Dr Jones

**Chapter 3: The Office of Dr. Jones**

"Do you want to talk about the dream, John?"

Dr. Jones' voice was calm and welcoming, a reflection of the atmosphere in her office. The room was decorated in warm shades of brown, khaki, and red. The mantle of the fireplace was neatly decorated with unlit candles, framed pictures, and a small clock that had a slow, soft tick.

John was sitting on a long, overstuffed couch made of brown leather, accompanied by a couple of throw pillows. Dr. Jones sat across from him in a khaki arm chair, her hands neatly folded in her lap. John liked Dr. Jones, and had been her patient for three years. She was easy to talk to, and it only got easier for him to open up to her as the years passed. To him, she was more of an old friend than his therapist.

He noticed that she had her hair tied up in a clip today, which created a sort of spiky plume behind her head. It reminded him of a dream he had about her, where they met Shakespeare. The dream had been fragmented, but he remembered there being witches, or things that looked like witches—

"John?"

His attention was brought crashing back to the office he was sitting in, and to Dr. Jones sitting before him, waiting for him to respond.

"Sorry, drifted off for a second," John said, giving her an apologetic smile. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees as he recalled the dream.

"I was floating in darkness," he started, saying each word slowly as he recreated the dream in his memory, "and I heard Rose shouting. She sounded really far off, and she sounded scared," John closed his eyes, his arms slowly stretching out in front of him, "and I reached out to try and feel my way around, and I touched this… this console, and Rose was still shouting. But when I touched that console, I felt… stronger, like I could do anything. I knew I'd be able to find Rose, and save her."

"This console, what sort was it? Was it a computer console?"

He opened his eyes and leaned back against the cushion of the couch, his hands brushing through his hair. "Dunno. It had all these switches and knobs and levers. Bunch of buttons too. It felt really cluttered with gadgets, kind of like an airplane console, I suppose." John remembered the feeling of the various controls under his fingers. He had been blind in his dream, but he knew what each button did, what every lever and switch triggered. "But it was my console. I knew that."

Dr. Jones sat back, her black eyes studying him as she took in his every word. Finally, she spoke. "Do you feel like this dream was significant, like maybe it had some connection to your life before the accident?"

John looked up at her. He didn't know how to respond. The console, the rush he felt as his hands caressed it, the sense of some great peril, these things felt familiar to him. He would have said yes, if it hadn't been for Rose.

"I don't know," he said when no other answer seemed appropriate.

"It must've felt significant, if you felt it was important enough to bring to my attention," she suggested.

John looked away from Dr. Jones, to the large window. Outside it was a bright, clear spring day, the late morning sunshine flooding in, casting rectangular light onto the wood floor of the office. He stared out to window for a few moments, the silence only broken by the soft ticking of the clock and the birds singing happily outside.

"Rose was there."

Dr. Jones remained silent. John turned back to look at her, his brow furrowed.

"I didn't meet Rose until after I woke up."

"Perhaps you saw her before, and never realized it. It's possible that you were a frequent customer of Henrik's, and saw Rose during her shifts there." Her words gentle, but they sparked sudden and overwhelming frustration in John. He turned back to the window, silence falling between them again.

Three years ago, he was found in the wreckage of Henrik's Department Store after it'd been demolished by some unidentified flying object. When the medics arrived, they were baffled by his condition. His clothes were all but disintegrated, yet he was completely unharmed. No lacerations or burns, no broken bones or internal bleeding. He didn't have so much as a hang nail! When they brought him to the hospital, he lay in a coma for a week. When he woke up, he couldn't remember anything. Not his name, his family, where he was from, nothing. He had no recollection of his life before waking up, though he was able to walk and talk moments after becoming conscious again. When he was found, there was nothing in his pockets except for what seemed to be a small flashlight (though no one could say for certain, as it had been melted almost beyond recognition) and a half-burnt wallet. The wallet contained nothing but a small bit of blank, scorched paper. Though his face was plastered all over English newspapers and news stations all over the world for weeks after he woke up, no one claimed John as family, friend, or even foe.

Even stranger, no one knew how John even got caught in the wreckage. Authorities watched various security tapes from street cameras stationed near Henrik's, to shed some light on what happened that night. Yet, no one had been seen standing or walking by the department store between the time the last employee left and when the store was demolished. No one could explain how he got caught in the midst of the destruction. It seemed he just appeared there.

He was a mystery to everyone, including himself. He didn't know his real name, or how old he really was. He couldn't remember his family, or his friends. He had no clue why he dreamt the strange things he did, or why he said some of the things he said.

But he knew that he'd never met Rose before she dug him out of the wreckage. He was absolutely certain.

John heard Dr. Jones shift in her seat, and he looked back at her, his frustration forgotten. "We can talk about it more next week, if you'd like," she said, smiling.

They both rose from their seats and John embraced her. "Cheers Martha," he said, smiling at her. She returned the smile. "Take care, John."

He turned to go when Dr. Jones spoke again.

"Oh, John?"

He turned around to look at Dr. Jones. "Yeah?"

"In your dream, when Rose was shouting, was she screaming anything?"

"Yeah. She was screaming, 'Doctor.'"

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "Doctor who?"

John shrugged. "Dunno. She was just shouting for a doctor," he smiled, opening her office door, "Anyway, see you next week."


	4. Chapter 4: A Pint at the Queen Vic

_**AN:**__ My sincerest apologies for the long wait, everyone! I had major issues writing this chapter, and even with your long wait, I fear this chapter is very lack luster. Please forgive me, I promise the chapters to come will be significantly better!_

**Chapter 4: A Pint at the Queen Vic**

They arrived at the Queen Vic close to ten o' clock and were lucky enough to find a table tucked away in a semi-private corner, despite the fact that the pub was quite crowded for a Wednesday night.

Rose and John talked of their day over a basket of chips and a couple of pints. John kept asking Rose about the smallest details of her day, trying to not leave any room for her to ask about his visit to Dr. Jones. However, John knew that he couldn't keep her attention off of him for the entire night. Soon his questions slowed and she was able to slip in before he could think of something more to say.

"Enough about my day, how was your's?"

John felt his stomach knot up, and suddenly the chip in his hand seemed less appetizing. "Oh, it was okay. Did a bit of shopping after seeing Dr. Jones—Oh, and I ran into your mother on the way up to our flat. The woman never ceases to amaze me with how much she can talk and complain!"

Rose grinned. "You love it!"

"I must be quite the masochist, then," John said, his eyebrows raised.

Rose slapped his arm lightly, laughing.

To John's relief, Rose didn't ask about his visit with Dr. Jones. He knew if she did, he would have to tell her about his dream.

_Why don't you want to tell her, John? _The small voice whispered wickedly in the back of his mind.

He had been in a constant state of inner turmoil since he left Dr. Jones' office. He wanted to tell Rose about his dream, about all of his dreams. But every time he resolved to tell her, he would stop himself at the very last second.

John looked at Rose, who was watching a group of rather rowdy blokes that were shouting and spilling their beer as they crowded the bar, craning their necks to better view the football game.

_This woman is the reason why you're even alive, _John thought to himself. _She and Jackie took you in when you had nowhere to go. She helped you create a new life for yourself. For Christ's sake you're going to _marry_ her in four months. The least you could do is be honest with her, and tell her about your dreams._

John reached over the table and rested his hand on Rose's, her brown eyes turning to him at his touch.

"Rose, I—"

The words caught in his throat. He sat there, his eyes searching her face, his lips parted as he tried to force the words out of him. Rose stared at him with a questioning look.

"I love you."

Rose's face split into a wide grin. "I love you too, John."

He sat back in his chair, defeat and anger washing over him. The words were _right there_! He felt them in his throat, sitting there like a stone. But they remained there, stubborn.

The pub was filled with drunken shouts once more, drowning out the words and thoughts of all other patrons. Rose flinched away from the sound, annoyance immediately replacing the grin from a moment ago.

John looked back at the group of men just in time to see one particularly red faced member order another round of beers. He looked back at Rose. "Shall we go, then?"

Rose began standing before he finished his sentence. "Yes, _please._"

John left the money for their chips and beers on the table. As he left, he slipped the waitress a tenner, since he was sure the men around the TV would be far too drunk to remember such a gesture.

The night air was cool and pleasant, the chill of winter finally giving way to spring. John and Rose walked hand-in-hand, their arms swinging between them. John had begun to tell Rose about Queen Victoria, and more of her saucy escapades. Rose grinned and laughed at the tales, but never asked where he learned the information.

John had been so involved in his stories that he hardly paid attention to where he was going. Twice he had run into people on the sidewalk, and once stepped on a homeless man's dog. The dog shrieked and jumped, making John losing his place in his story. After apologizing to the owner, they carried on their way down the sidewalk, John immediately beginning a new tale about King Henry VIII and his wives.

By the time they walked into their flat, John's tale had ended. As they stepped over the threshold, a wave of fatigue hit them. Dragging their feet, John and Rose made their way to the bedroom.

Almost immediately after John turned off the lamp, Rose was asleep, her breathing deep and relaxed. John lay beside her, listening to her breathing and the sounds of the late night London streets. "Tomorrow. I will tell her tomorrow," he whispered before sleep took him.


	5. Chapter 5: A Long, Long Day

**Chapter 5: A Long, Long Day**

"That looks lovely!" Rose cooed as the woman stepped out of the fitting room.

"You don't think the stripes make my hips look too big?" She asked as she inspected herself in the full length mirror, turning side to side to view all angles of the outfit she modeled.

Rose shook her head. "Not at all! I think the top is wonderful. You've got a lovely figure, and it really shows that off."

The woman smiled at Rose, having noted the sincere tone of her comment. "Thank you!" The woman said before darting back into the dressing room to change. Rose smiled and continued through the fitting rooms, slipping through the Employee's Only door, then into her small office.

She sat down heavily in her chair, resting her forehead on the cluttered desktop. Rose had been drifting through the day in a sleepy, simply going through the motions of invoices, paperwork, scheduling, and helping customers and employees alike.

Though Rose got a full night's sleep the night before, her dreams had made her restless. Most of them were a blur of strange places and terrifying creatures. For most of the dreams, John was there. In others, she was with another man. Once or twice, they were accompanied by a rather handsome man in a trench coat or John's therapist. The monsters changed in every dream, from metal men, to lizard people, to some strange beast Rose never recognized. In all of the dreams, however, Rose was running, and as she ran, she felt terrified and exhilarated.

When she woke up, she was tangled in the sheets, half expecting to be surrounded by some horrifying monsters, and feeling as though she _had_ been running all night. When she told John about her odd dream, he laughed and said that she must've had one too many pints the night before.

"Rose?_"_

Rose bolted up, a spreadsheet stuck to her cheek. William stood beside her chair, his arms folded over his chest, a hint of amusement on his face. "Have a nice nap?"

Rose peeled the paper from her face, heat creeping up her neck. "I-I didn't mean to fall asleep. I'm so sorry Will, I just—"

"Rose, it's fine," he said with a chuckle before pulling up a second chair and sitting beside her. William smiled and patted her shoulder lightly. "Why don't you take off an hour early?"

"I'm really okay, Will, I can—"

William shook his head. "I promise I can control the shop without you for an hour. Go home, relax, and get some rest."

Rose nodded, knowing that there was no point in arguing.

As her car crept through the constant stop-and-go London traffic, Rose replayed her bizarre dream over and over in her head. She felt the fear gripping her throat, and the adrenaline pumping through her veins. In the back of her mind, behind the fear and the drive to run and survive, she felt a tiny spark of happiness. _This is the only place I want to be, _the spark said underneath the pounding of her heart, _I want to be here, with him, with my Doctor._

But she wasn't with a doctor. She was with John, her fiancé, her fallen star. But whenever she thought back to the dreams, he was the Doctor. Rose sank into her seat and sighed, watching the tail lights on the car in front of her wink out, and the car beginning to accelerate. "Oh thank God," she said as she pressed the gas.

As Rose's car began to roll forward, a flash of brown darted in front of Rose's car, and her foot pressed hard into the brake, her tires squealing.

The dog stood in front of her car, barking and growling manically. A man ran into the street then, grabbing the leash that dangled from the dog's collar. The dog pulled against its owner, standing on its hind legs as it continued to bark at Rose. She stared at the dog, watched as its jaws snapped and as its neck muscles bulged against the collar as his owner struggled to bring him back onto the sidewalk. Her view suddenly became blocked, and she looked up to see a policeman standing at her window.

"You alright, miss?"

Rose smiled weakly at the officer, nodding. "Yeah, I'm alright, thanks." Before he could reply, she drove away.

When she parked in the lot of her flat, Rose was relieved to be home, ready to spend the rest of her evening with John. As she climbed the stairs, she decided that she would take a nice bath, then a nap, and when John came home they would order some Chinese and—

Rose stopped on the top step, staring at the two people standing in front of the door of her flat. The woman was about Rose's height, with medium length brown hair, wearing black slacks, a black vest, and a white shirt underneath it. She was standing with a man wearing a long black coat, huddled together and whispering urgently.

The woman soon realized they weren't alone anymore and stopped talking, turning to face Rose on the stairs.

"Rose? Rose Tyler?"

At the mention of Rose's name, the man finally turned around, and Rose stifled a gasp. She had never met the man in her life, but she recognized him instantly. He saw the recognition in her face, and gave her a small, almost sad smile.

Rose straightened her back, giving both of them a hard, annoyed look. "Yeah, what'd you want?"

The man took a step toward Rose, his face serious once more as his blue eyes stared directly into her's, making her lose all of her bravado.

"We need to talk to you about the Doctor."

As he said those words, everything felt so surreal to Rose. Did she fall asleep at the wheel while driving home? Rose felt herself weakly shake her head, wiping her sweaty palms on her slacks. "There's no doctor around here," she said, her voice wavering and distant. _I'm dreaming. This is a dream…_

"We know him as the Doctor," said the woman, giving Rose a hesitant smile. "But I believe you know him as John Smith."


	6. Chapter 6: Shatter

**Chapter 6: Shatter**

"He's a complete numpty!" Donna shouted, looking completely aghast. "John, do think I'm a _distraction_?" She continued, making quotes in the air for extra emphasis. John shrugged his shoulders. "Well…"

Donna turned in her seat, giving John a hard look. "Well _what_, spaceman?" John felt the corners of his mouth tug upward at the nickname. Donna had been using it since they started working together two years ago, poking fun at him for all the stories surrounding his appearance the year before. He despised the name at first, but after getting to know Donna, he came to find the name quite endearing even though she only used it when she was annoyed with him. Somehow, he was able to keep the smile off his face. "Your reaction to Dean's story was a bit dramatic. Well, very dramatic. Well…"

Donna gave John the most sinister glare before a car horn blared behind them. "_Alright, alright!_" Donna screamed into the backseat as she began to drive. John winced at the shouts. "Oi, inside voice!"

Donna pulled into the parking lot of Powell Estate. "Get out before I knock you into next week."

John shrugged. "Alright. I was going to invite you up for a cuppa, but…"

Donna killed the engine.

When they walked into the flat, Donna was updating John on the latest office gossip.

"Do you know what she said, though? She…" Donna's voice trailed off when she nearly ran into John, who was stopped in the foyer.

She followed his eyes to the living room. A woman and man rose from chairs they had brought in from the dining room as Rose turned to look at John and Donna in the hallway. Rose's face was pale, her lip quivering.

"Rose?" John ran to Rose's side immediately, kneeling by the couch and holding her hand.

"I'm just gonna go. Raincheck on the cuppa!" Donna said, rushing out the door, though her exit was all but noticed.

John smoothed Rose's hair back from her face. "Rose, are you okay?" Rose nodded, though she wouldn't look at John. He turned to the two people standing in their living room, anger suddenly washing over him as he stood.

"Who are you? What've you done with Rose?" His voice was quiet, but it dripped with seething rage. The man stepped toward John. "We didn't hurt Rose, John," he said, before motioning to the spot beside Rose, "Would you have a seat?"

John bristled, his voice raising. "Not until you tell me why you're in my home, and what's wrong with Rose."

John felt a hand in his, and looked down at Rose. "Sit down, John," she said quietly, without looking up at him. His anger melted away at her touch, and sat down after a moment of hesitation.

The woman looked to her partner before looking back at Rose and John on the couch. "We're here to talk to you about… the night you showed up."

John felt like his heart stopped beating in his chest. Were they people from his old life? Were they his family? John's mind began to race as a heavy silence settled in the room.

The woman sat down in her chair, leaning forward and placing a hand on John's knee as she looked up into his face. "Do you know how you got here, John?"

He began to speak, his words slow and careful, "I was found in the debris of Henrik's after a UFO crashed into the building. After the debris was cleared, there was no sign of any object, and it was speculated that whatever it was broke apart when it made impact with the store."

"You were in immaculate condition for being caught in such collision, and then being buried under all of that rubble," the woman said softly.

The man, who had been standing in silence the entire time, took a stethoscope from one of his deep coat pockets, and pressed it up against John's chest. He listened for a moment before looking at the woman in utter disbelief. "One heart."

John looked between the two strangers, confused. "Of course I have one heart. How many hearts am I _supposed _to have?"

The woman looked at John with no hint of amusement on her face. "Two."

John threw up his hands, outrage consuming him. "Oh, come on! Are you two _mental_? Do you _hear _yourselves? Just because I was caught in a freak accident and survived, doesn't make me some sort of alien."

"Timelord."

John turned to look at Rose, his eyes wide when he heard the word. "What?"

Rose looked up at John. "Your species is known as the timelords."

John gaped at Rose, looking for some hint of jest in her face. But all he saw was solemn understanding, and… pain? He couldn't help but laugh at how absurd this was.

"Rose, you can't actually _believe_ this?"

Rose's face became hard, almost angry. "You've been having strange dreams for months now. You say things in your sleep, strange words I don't know and names of people I've never met. Sometimes, you speak in different languages. French, Russian, German, and languages I can't even begin to understand."

She paused for a moment, her eyes welling up with tears as she swallowed hard. "You… you've said two names before, Sarah Jane… a-and Jack. Do you remember that?"

Realization crashed down on John as he looked slowly from Rose to the two people sitting across from them. Sarah Jane Smith and Jack Harkness sat as still as statues in their chairs, their faces solemn.

It felt like hours before Jack began to speak. "John, the dreams you've been having aren't dreams."

When John didn't say anything, Jack continued. "There isn't one universe. There are billions, and in each, time and events happen a little differently. Some events can change throughout the course of each universe's history, but there are some very key events that must never change, not matter what."

Sarah Jane began, "You weren't supposed to fall from the sky that night, John. You were supposed to land safely and investigate signals you were getting from Henrik's Department Store. Something happened that night that changed what was supposed to happen, and somehow the crash caused you to lose all of your memories and turn you human."

"The dreams you've been having are actually glimpses into the reality that's supposed to exist now. Those dreams are your real life."

John's head was swimming. _They can't be serious…_ "How would I be able to see these things?"

"Timelords, as a species, are able to see all of time and space at all times. Even though you're human now, some of your timelord mind is leaking through the barrier."

John stared at Sarah Jane and Jack, though not actually seeing them. He saw glimpses of his dreams, of a big blue police box, of all the strange creatures he saw, of Rose and him running, of Donna and Dr. Jones. He blinked slowly and heard himself say, "What do they call me?"

"They call you the Doctor."

"Doctor who?"

Sarah Jane smiled sadly. "Just the Doctor."

Rose stood up abruptly. "I can't _take this_!" Her voice was shaking, tears running down her face. "You come in our home, you tell us all of this after John's been living a new life for _three years_. Why? _Why_ did you come here?"

"When the Doctor's timeline was disturbed, it knocked our entire universe's reality off course. Did you know by now, Earth was supposed to have made major contact with extraterrestrial life? That it's supposed to be common knowledge that other, more intelligent life lives outside of our solar system? We haven't done any of these things because the Doctor hasn't been around. He's been quiet and because he's been quiet, no other life has noticed Earth. To the rest of the universe we are still tadpoles floating on a cesspool of a planet."

"So our universe will have a new timeline!"

Jack shook his head. "It's not just the timeline we're concerned about. The Doctor's disturbance was so severe that it cracked the fabric of our universe. That crack has been getting larger at astounding rates. If that crack is left to break, our entire universe will implode on itself."

Rose slammed her fists onto the arm of the couch, hot tears pouring down her cheeks. "_I don't care!_ You can't take John from me, you _can't_!" Her voice cracked as she screamed, and suddenly she fell back onto the couch and sobbed.

John leaned down, his hands on Rose's shoulders. "Rose—"

She shouldered his hands off of her before standing again. "I need air." Suddenly, the door slammed and Rose was gone.

"Rose!" John got up and began toward the door.

"John, we still need to talk!"

He looked at Sarah Jane and Jack. He knew that they were doing what they knew was best, but he couldn't help but despise them for ever showing up at his flat and for tearing the only life he ever knew to pieces. "I'm not letting her go out alone while she's like that."

He shut the door behind him and took the steps two at a time.

Rose walked so quickly that before she knew it she was a block away from Powell Estate. She slowed to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk and allowed herself to sob. _Why couldn't he just have a wife and kid?_ This was so much worse than that. He is the most important thing to ever exist, travelling all across time and space, keeping the peace of the entire universe. _The universe can't have him, he's _mine_! He's my fallen star. What about _my_ universe? _Rose leaned against the side of a building and sobbed into her hands.

A hand cupped itself over her mouth, cutting off her sobs as an arm snaked around her waist and dragged her into the alley. She squirmed against the arm, and tried to scream, but she still felt herself being dragged into the darkness. "Where's the Doctor?" A raspy voice whispered against her ear.

"Rose!" John's voice echoed faintly from the street.

The man behind her chuckled under his breath, "Oh, marvelous."

His hands fell away from her, and Rose sucked in a breath. "_JO_—" A sharp pain in the back of her head cut off her scream, and she didn't even remember hitting the ground.


	7. Chapter 7: Cat and Mouse

**Chapter 7: Cat and Mouse**

"Rose!" John called as he jogged down the sidewalk. He wasn't even sure that she went this way. She walked so quickly that by the time he reached the bottom of the stairs, Rose was nowhere to be found. _I have to find her. She can't be alone, not like that._ Remembering the look on her face sent a twinge of pain through John. _She looked at me like it was all my fault…_

He shoved the thoughts out of his mind. _I need to stay focused. I need to find her._ He slowed his jog to a brisk walk, turning and craning his neck as he looked up and down the street for any sign of Rose.

"'Scuse me."

John turned to face a homeless man, his short blonde hair in complete disarray as much as his clothes. "Y' lookin' for somefin, sir?"

"I'm looking for a woman, about yea high, blonde hair, wearing black trousers and a pink blouse. Did you see her come this way?"

The man pondered for a moment. John believed he would say no when suddenly, the man's face brightened. "I fink a girl like that jus' pass through 'bout a minute ago," he turned and pointed to a small street not far from where they stood. "She took a shortcut through there."

John grinned. "Brilliant! Thank you, thank you so much!" He broke into a run, moving around the man who helped him.

He turned into the alleyway, sprinting. _I'm coming, Rose._ As he neared the end of the alley, something caught John's eye, and he slowed to a stop.

Standing beside a rather foul smelling dumpster was a large blue police call box. John stared up at the box, wide-eyed. "Bloody hell," he breathed. He reached his hand up and touched the wood of the door. In his dreams, he felt comforted whenever this box came into view. But now, in the waking world, it was an unsettling sight.

There was a hard shove into John's shoulder and he fell forward, shoving the door open and sprawling across the hard floor of the box.

John groaned and got to his knees, rubbing the side of his head, which ached from the impact with the ground. As soon as he opened his eyes, however, the pain was forgotten.

He felt as though he was Alice after having stumbled down the rabbit's hole. Rather than being inside of a cramped call box, John found himself in the entrance of a large room bathed in golden light. Through the metal grate floor sprouted twisting pillars that reminded John of roots. From the ceiling, thick black wires hung like vines. In the center of the room stood a large control panel with a large glass pillar in the middle of it, which pulsed and gave off a blue light. "What—"

There was a sudden kick to John's side and he cried out, doubling over onto the ground once more. There was another kick to his chest, and he felt the air leave his lungs. He rolled onto his back gasping for air, when a figure stood over him. "Naughty Doctor. Do you know how long it's taken me to find you?"

"I… I'm not—" John wheezed, but his words were cut off as the figure grabbed the collar of his shirt and lifted him from the ground. John's head rolled as he was lifted. "Your TARDIS is a cheeky one. She brought me back to eighteenth century Paris after we crashed. Do you know how much I _hate_ eighteenth century Paris?"

A fist slammed into John's cheek, and his head snapped back. "Every time I tried to come back to this time, the TARDIS took me somewhere else. She even shut down her own defenses and tried to fly into a red dwarf star."

The hand let go of John's collar and he fell to the ground like a rag doll, his body throbbing and his mind in a thick fog. The stranger sat on his chest, and John gasped. "You're not nearly as fun when you're human, Doctor. You're not even putting up a fight." The voice sounded disappointed.

He felt fingers on his chin, moving his face to look up. He opened his eyes, but the light around him cast the stranger into blurry shadows. "I'm… not the… D-Doctor," he managed to say through labored breaths.

"No, I should say not. You're not nearly as clever. The Doctor would've never been caught so easily."

The weight left John's chest, and he coughed, rolling onto his side. He watched as a pair of clunky black shoes walked across the metal grate toward the console. "However, it will be easier to get rid of you like this. Almost like killing a little puppy, or maybe a roach." A chuckle followed the comment.

"Rose…"

The feet stopped and turned to face John. "What?"

"Where… is… _Rose_."

A foot tapped against the grate in mock contemplation. "_Oh_, you mean the _human woman_!" The feet disappeared behind the console. There was a grunt, then the sound of something being dragged across the floor.

The stranger's feet came back into view, then Rose's limp body. He let her go, and her body hit the grate with a _thud_. "Right, there she is."

John's sight suddenly came back with shocking clarity. Rose lay on the floor only a yard from where he was. Her blonde hair draped over half of her face, but the part of her face that he could see was peaceful, as if she was asleep.

"Rose?"

"Oh, she's fine, just unconscious_._"

Anger took John, his pain forgotten as he stood up. For the first time since he entered the box, he saw the stranger.

"_You_," John breathed when he recognized the man from the street standing.

The blonde homeless man looked at John, a look of great amusement on his face. "_Me_," he replied in a mocking tone, waving his hands.

"Why did you do this? What did you do to Rose?"

"Oh, you don't need to worry your pretty little head about all that, Doctor. As for your girl, I just cracked her over the head with a bottle. Better than fighting her as she kicked and screamed." The carefree way he spoke made John see red.

"How _dare_ you lay your hands on her!" He began to move toward the man, when suddenly his vision was filled with a bright blue light and a piercing screech. John covered his ears and stumbled backward at the agonizing sound.

"SIT _DOWN_, DOCTOR!" The man's face contorted into an expression of madness and rage. John sat down heavily beside Rose.

The man smiled. "Good," he said as his fingered curled around a lever and pulled. The room shook violently as the tower in the middle of the console pulsed and came to life, a loud _whirring _sound filling the air.

_Just like in my dream…_ John thought distantly. He looked down at Rose's unconscious face, gently brushing away the hair that fell in front of it. "Where are we going?"

The man looked at John, a grin spread across his face. "To a funeral."

_I am the bad wolf…_

_ I create myself…_

_ I take the words…_

_ I scatter them, in time and space…_

_ A message, to lead myself here…_

_ "Rose!"_

_ Doctor?_

_ "Rose!"_

"Doctor?"

"Rose? Rose, are you okay?"

Her eyes fluttered open, and when her vision focused she saw John looking down at her.

"John… Where are we?"

"I'm… I'm not quite sure."

Slowly, Rose sat up, cradling the back of her head, wincing at the sharp throbs that pierced her skull. Gingerly, John cupped her cheeks, bringing her face close to his. She saw nothing but fear in his eyes.

"John, what's wrong?"

"Rose, I…" His words faltered and he looked away from her, resting his forehead against her's. "Rose I'm so sorry. I didn't protect you. I… I couldn't protect you."

Rose felt fear settle heavily in her stomach. "John, _what is going on_?"

"You're about to _die_ is what's going on." Rose turned around at the sudden voice, her eyes widening. "_You_?"

The blonde man threw up his arms. "What is it with being called _you_ today?"

Rose tried to stand up, but became light-headed and fell back into John's arms. "You… you were outside the pub the other night. You had that dog earlier today!"

"Yeah, sorry about that. He always seemed to get away from me, that one."

"Where are we?" Rose demanded.

"I'd say we're almost to the edge of your universe."

Rose stared at the man, feeling suddenly numb. _Everything Jack and Sarah Jane said is true._ When they first told her about John, she didn't want to believe them. But the way they told it, she knew it was true. Still, she had held on to the hope that they were just crazy groupies who heard about John when he was in the media. Yet there she was, sitting in the console room of the Doctor's spaceship, just like in her dream.

Rose slowly turned to face John, who never took his eyes off of her. "John…"

She threw her arms around him, hugging him tight. His arms squeezed her waist as he buried his face in her shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Rose. This is all my fault… He wanted me, but he got you, a-and now…"

Rose pulled away from John, his face like stone, though his eyes showed her the fear that he felt. She smiled at him. "John, it's okay. I… I wouldn't have it any other way." Her hands slid into his, their fingers entwining. "At least we're together, yeah?"

Tears threatened John's eyes as he returned the smile. "Oh, yes."

"Oh how _nauseating_," the man said loudly, making John and Rose wince as his voice bounced off the walls. "Listening to this is by _far_ worse than eighteenth century Paris. At least I don't have to listen to this any longer."

John and Rose turned to look at him just as he pulled another switch. The doors of the box flew open, and a howling wind filled the room. Just as Rose and John began to slip across the floor toward the door, John dug his fingers into the grate, his other hand clinging onto Rose's wrist.

"_Rose, hold on_!" John yelled over the deafening howl, but his words sounded distant to Rose's ears. She clung to his hand, her feet dangling over the threshold of the box. Rose tried not to look down, but she couldn't resist, and what she saw made her scream.

Outside the box was space, a vast blackness dotted with stars. It would've been an awe-inspiring sight to Rose, if not for what else she saw. There seemed to be a large black tear in the fabric of space, and from the tear came a powerful force that was sucking in planets, moons, and asteroids from all over. _We're going to get sucked in_, she thought. _We're going to die at the edge of the universe, and no one will ever know._


End file.
